


Lazy

by FrozenMemories



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Mac and Jack have a lazy morning
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	Lazy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KatieComma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/gifts).



Jack wakes with a groan, a stale taste and fuzzy sensation on his tongue. He blinks and breathes out a long and weary sigh. He loves team nights at Mac’s but every once in a while these things get out of hand, resulting in a hangover from hell. He blames this one on mixing his beer with that bottle of wine Cage brought to the party – it’s definitely entirely to do with that and not at all with him getting too old to keep up with his favorite squad of youngsters.

There’s rumbling outside the door, the distinct clatter of pots and pans, and he hates to think of Mac possibly setting the house on fire this early in the morning – he’s much too tired to jump to his rescue. Closing his eyes he listens for any sign of the impending apocalypse coming from the kitchen. To his relief things stay fairly quiet.

He’s almost lulled back to sleep by the incessant background noise when the sound of bare footsteps alerts him to Mac’s return to the bedroom. He’s hit by the faint waft of Mac’s shampoo – he hasn’t even heard him taking a shower before – and the scent of crisp bacon and-

“Coffee?” Mac offers and Jack groans in delight – it's impossible how much he loves that guy. He smiles into the pillow and rises, feeling the sheets slip further down his bare back and exposing his skin to the pleasant tickle of a fresh morning breeze. Why did he not notice Mac open the window?

He rubs his eyes and takes the mug from Mac’s hand to take a sip, almost burning his lips on the hot liquid. Mac grins gleefully at his morning stupor and sets his tray down on the foot of the bed before climbing back in with Jack.

“Morning sunshine, have you recovered yet?” he taunts and Jack grumbles at him stealing his entire routine. He heaves himself into a sitting position until he’s propped against the headboard, mindful of keeping himself covered up – not so much out of decency, as of precaution; he’s not about to risk scalding his jewels with accidentally spilled coffee.

While they eat Mac revives Jack’s memory of the previous night, specifically of the moment he ungracefully stumbled over his own feet when he got up to get another round of beers.

“Come on, Mac, you know it ain’t happened like that man,” Jack tries without success to defend his honor. Mac grins at him unabashedly in return.

“Sure did,” he informs him, “you’re lucky Bozer was quick enough to catch you, or else your ass would have landed in the fire pit.”

Jack shakes his head as images of Bozer’s arms around his ribcage float back to him. Jack Dalton doesn’t blush but he sure does come close.

“I’m sure I remember you pushed me,” he accuses, even though he knows there’s really no use in trying to lie to Mac.

“Why would I do that?” Mac scoffs in return, “Your ass is hot enough as it is.”

There’s a smug glow on his face, he can feel it warm his cheeks and his heart, as he watches Mac smirk into his coffee mug.

“You’re so sweet,” he says and winks while stuffing the last strip of bacon into his mouth.

Mac sets the tray aside and Jack slides down the bed to lie flat on his back, pulling Mac against his chest. Mac’s not too keen on being cuddled and cradled like that but Jack drops a kiss to his head anyway and tugs him closer yet.

“Thanks, babe,” he sighs and closes his eyes again to the sensation of Mac’s fingers tickling down his abs. Oh, how he wishes they could stay like this forever – but his bladder has different plans for him.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,” he advises before he crawls out of bed and scuffles to the bathroom, not giving a second thought to being buck ass naked still.

He’s probably sweating out beer and smoke but can’t bring himself to jump into the shower yet so he decides to just wash his face and brush his teeth, which makes him feel slightly rejuvenated albeit not any less tired. He half expects Mac to putter around the kitchen by the time he comes back but to his pleasant surprise Mac honored his request and is still waiting for Jack right where he left him.

Mac’s hand finds its way to Jack’s midsection again, as soon as his feet have slid back under the covers and Jack lets out an appreciating sigh before he covers it with his own and squeezes briefly.

“Give me an hour, okay?” he mumbles and rolls to the side, taking Mac’s hand with him. He marvels at how snugly Mac fits against his back and how Mac’s arm has the perfect length and angle to snake around his front so that their joined hands can rest against his chest.

He hums, utterly content.

Mac nuzzles into Jack’s neck, “An hour, huh? Are you slacking on me, big guy?”

Jack can hear the amusement in Mac’s voice. The jab is laced with fondness so he decides to humor Mac with a pretend huff.

“We’ll talk again when you’re thirty…six…ish,” he drawls and plays with Mac’s fingers. Mac laughs and kisses his shoulder.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he mutters, “I’ll give you twenty minutes, tops.”

Gently and without intent Mac begins to move against him.

Jack hums, a deep, contented sound, vibrating through his chest and throat – lazy mornings with Mac are his absolute favorite.

“Are you making those noises because you’re incredibly turned on or because you’re incredibly tired?” Mac speaks against his neck, hot breath making Jack’s hairs stand at attention – as well as certain other body parts.

“Hmm… can it be both?”

He loves the way Mac chuckles behind him and tightens his hold.

Mac keeps shallowly rolling his hips, grinding his boxer-clad half mast into Jack’s bare ass. It’s sensual and insinuating yet entirely without pressure or urgency – and it makes Jack want more. With his eyes still closed he fumbles for the nightstand beside him and retrieves a bottle of lube. He prides himself on his blind target-aim but chooses not to gloat about it; he simply grins to himself and tosses the bottle backwards, hitting Mac somewhere around the hip.

Mac cackles and bites his shoulder in retaliation.

“So this is what you want?” he teases and if Jack didn’t know him so well he might have missed the hitch of surprise. Even though they both could care less about stereotypical top/bottom dynamics, Jack isn’t often in the right head space for this.

“Actually, no,” Jack can’t help but have some fun with him first, “This is for you to play with yourself so I can finally catch some sleep.”

Mac’s fully on top of him, pinning him to the bed, before Jack can finish chuckling at his lame joke.

“You can sleep when you’re dead, old man,” Mac vexes with a pointed roll of his hips, resulting in a very ungraceful moan from Jack. Mac’s palpably enjoying himself and Jack loves every second of it.

It’s subtle but Jack can hear a change in Mac’s breathing, a sign that his teasing is very much affecting himself as much as it does Jack.

He feels Mac’s nimble fingers at the small of his back, tapping out a rhythm that suggests he’s playing this whole thing out in his head before acting. That’s Mac for you, always thinking and always working with precision and intent. He has the world believe he’s the master of improvisation, but really, he always sticks to some plan.

Jack doesn’t mind – Mac’s plans are genius level – he just wishes he would let himself live in the moment more often, trust his body instead of his brains.

“Come on, you know the drill,” Jack teases over his shoulder and is blindsided when Mac’s hand on his neck pushes him back down flat.

“The drill is you let me do this my way,” Mac tells him in a voice that isn’t exactly new but rare enough to take Jack by surprise – pleasantly so.

“All yours, boss,” he jabs and absolutely means it – there’s no one but Mac he trusts so unconditionally.

The cap of the lube snaps open and the sound is enough to fill Jack with sweet anticipation. That, and the way Mac is straddling his thighs, trapping Jack to the bed. It’s not like he couldn’t fight him off if he wanted to, they wrestle around the bedroom often enough, but that’s not what Jack’s in the mood for. His brain is still considerably slow and he’s more than happy to just surrender to Mac’s capable hands.

Mac takes his sweet time prepping him – it’s a lazy morning after all – and Jack feels himself melt into goo under his tender ministrations. For all his cocky bantering Mac is always gentle and attentive when they do this, even though he knows Jack likes it a little rough and doesn’t mind the sharp edges of pain seeping into his pleasure. Although Jack has to admit there’s something about this, letting himself be taken care of, becoming passive and docile under the touch of the person he loves.

There’s a hand on his hip, warm and heavy, caressing his skin and massaging circles into the base of his spine with its thumb. Jack clutches at the pillow, too cozy and content to encourage Mac verbally, the way he usually does. That doesn’t mean he’s quiet. In fact, he’s helpless to the deep, satisfied moans and sighs that dive up from deep within. It almost feels like they originate right where Mac’s fingers are gently working into him and rumble all the way through his body until they come out of his mouth.

Mac’s hand slides away from his back and slowly crawls between Jack and the sheets, teasing at his front. Jack grinds his hips down to push into the touch. Mac chuckles at his impatience but doesn’t comment on it. He generally doesn’t speak much when they’re getting each other worked up like this. Most of the time Jack makes up for that but today he just lets out indistinct noises – they’ve never needed words to understand.

The slow pace Mac sets is so relaxing Jack feels a deep sense of warmth spread though him. If he wasn’t ridiculously turned on already he could easily let the sensation drag him right back into the enticing world of slumber. But he is. Turned on, that is. Immensely.

Mac strokes him, slowly, fingers soft and warm around Jack’s skin.

“Mac please,” he mumbles, in between more drawn out moans.

They could do this for hours and Jack knows Mac would be careful not to let him reach the edge. And Jack can go that long, he knows that too – when it’s the other way around. When he’s the one dishing out sweet torture, keeping Mac just this side of losing it. But this? It’s not so much the sweet allure of release he craves, as that he wants Mac in on this, wants to feel his arousal up close instead of just randomly ghosting against the back of his thigh when he shifts.

“Come on,” he tries again. Mac’s fingers are easing in and out of him by now and all he wants is to share the pleasure and become one with Mac.

He untangles his fist from the pillow and reaches back to tug at Mac’s underwear.

“Mac!” he urges and Mac drops forward with a soft little laugh. He kisses Jack behind his ears, trails kisses down his neck and between his shoulder blades, and removes both hands from Jack with lingering caresses. He shuffles around, hopefully stripping down, Jack muses, and then he’s firmly pressing back down on Jack’s body until he’s aligned with him from chest to toes.

Jack twitches in excitement at the friction of skin on skin, Mac’s dick firm between his cheeks. He doesn’t hesitate when Mac reaches down to part his legs, hands skimming up and down the insides of Jack’s thighs. He spreads for Mac with a heartfelt groan, feeling Mac’s fingers tease at him again, dispensing the lube excessively – he’s so gonna help with the clean up.

Jack cackles to himself and Mac stops.

“What are you laughing at?” He asks, his voice deep and taunting.

Jack hurries to gather his wits.

“Nothing,” he says quickly but Mac clearly isn’t satisfied with that.

“Jack?” he prods.

“Just… was just thinkin’ ‘bout how I’ll make you clean up your mess later,” he professes honestly and has to laugh when Mac starts giggling.

“How about we make it a real mess first?”

Jack’s comeback dies in his throat when Mac nudges against him and gently rocks forward.

“Fuck,” Jack grinds out wearily and succumbs to the sensation of Mac slowly pushing his way inside.

“You good?” Mac asks, wavering just a little on top of him. Jack nods and grasps for the hand Mac’s propping himself up on.

“Good God, so good,” he answers and yanks their joined hands to where he can kiss Mac’s palm. As a result Mac slumps down onto him, jolting deep inside of Jack, making him cry out.

“Fuck, baby,” he grumbles before he can find the strength to push his hips up an inch, signaling Mac that he’s ready to set a pace.

Mac starts out slowly, getting them both comfortably adjusted. And again, he is taking his time. Jack is throbbing and thrumming, aching for more, but doesn’t try to take over. Mac said he wanted to do things his way and who is Jack to object?

Mac's movements are shallow yet pointed, slow but deliberate. He has Jack round off each thrust with a groan. 

After a while Mac pushes back up on his forearms, untangling his hand from Jack's to grip at the sheets. It makes Jack indescribably smug to think that fucking him has Mac struggling for his own composure like that. He loops an arm around Mac's to cover his hand again while the other one reaches behind him to scrabble at Mac in an attempt to pull him closer. He lets his hand slide down along Mac's side until he feels the firm muscles of his ass, contracting under his fingers with each push.

Hot breath tickles his cheek as the sounds of Mac's grunts fill his ears and it blows his mind to think about how deep Mac is buried inside of him.

"Baby, Jesus, Angus, don't stop," he babbles uncontrolled, the torturous friction building up a familiar tension deep down in his gut.

Mac's free hand grips his neck and he pushes himself up off Jack's body with gentle force. Jack's face is pressed into the pillow sideways; he can still breathe but it's becoming increasingly difficult. Mac knows what he's doing, he trusts, as he gasps and feels his pleasure grow. It's so intense he might as well combust with it.

Mac keeps his pace relentlessly, never speeding up, but the change in angle has made up for it and Jack can feel himself inching closer. Just when he thinks he's going to black out Mac lets go off his neck and lets his hand travel down to Jack's hip. He pulls his left hand from Jack's grip and places it on the other hip, tapping at him lightly to signal Jack to lift. With remarkable synchronicity they raise to their knees and Jack braces himself for the fast finish he's been waiting for.

But Mac stills. He pulls him back into his lap and traces lines on Jack's skin with his thumbs. Jack growls impatiently and twitches back.

Mac's hands wander up and down his spine, along the outer curve of his thighs, to his front, up his chest. Mac tweezes his nipples, pinching both at the same time, and then slowly, ever so fucking slowly, starts rolling his hips once more.

Jack claws at the sheets and moans.

Gradually Mac ups his pace, fingers digging sharply into Jack’s hipbones as he holds him steady, pumping into him with intent. Jack’s aching to be touched but Mac makes no move to let his hands steer away from where they anchor him to Jack’s body, so Jack reaches down with his own hand and starts jerking to the rhythm.

He’s oh. So. Close.

Mac is amazing, Mac is relentless, Mac is moaning and groaning and panting behind him. Jack feels his own body going taut and momentarily loses his voice until he erupts with a loud cry.

Mac covers Jack’s pumping fist and together they stroke him through it, slowing down with each drag. He stills but doesn’t pull out.

Jack’s panting as if he’s just escaped an explosion but he finds his voice and manages to tell Mac to keep going. It doesn’t take Mac long to work himself back to sufficient speed. Jack reaches back to grab at Mac’s thighs, encouraging him to let go. His eyes are closed and he’s still breathless but forces himself to breathe through the oversensitivity and focus on the feeling of Mac fucking himself to his own climax.

The moment he feels Mac explode inside of him he lets out another cry of pleasure and then the world goes still around him. There’s only the weight of Mac’s limp body draped across his back and the sound of their mutual wheezing.

Once they’ve recovered enough to lift their own body weight they peel each other apart and roll onto their backs, Jack flopping a lazy hand onto Mac’s sweat-slick chest. He turns his head sideways to drink in the image of Mac’s face in profile – the perfect shape of his nose, the soft flutter of his lashes as he closes his eyes to calm down. There’s a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips that draws Jack in like a magnet. He rolls sideways and runs a gentle hand through Mac’s disheveled hair.

“Some boyfriend you are,” he starts mockingly, amused when Mac’s eyes fly open in confusion. He lets a beat pass between them before he continues his complaint, “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He leans over and brings their lips together, not bothering to wait for a reply.


End file.
